


Somewhere In Time

by KittyKait, MadameCissy



Series: Stuck In The Middle With You [1]
Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: F/F, Stuck in the middle with you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyKait/pseuds/KittyKait, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameCissy/pseuds/MadameCissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A midnight breakdown puts Brenda and Sharon in a rather mysterious situation</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere In Time

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a series of one-shots that all feature Brenda and Sharon finding themselves stuck or trapped together in a variety of situations.

The monotone noise of the car engine would have been soothing in any other moment but the violent lashing of the rain against the windscreen prevented her from properly enjoying the experience of being the passenger for once. Brenda's elbow rested on the door, supporting her head with her hand as she scraped her nails over her scalp. She was tired and her eyes were burning but she didn't dare take them off the road.

"I'm pretty sure we should've turned right twenty miles ago," Sharon, who was behind the wheel, interrupted her thoughts. She briefly took her hand of the wheel and made a random gesture. "We missed the exit. There is nothing here." She shot Brenda a sideways glance. "That's the last time I follow your directions."

"I'm surprised there was ever a first time," Brenda drawled.

The road they were on was meant to be the interstate but it very obviously was not. Occasionally a car came by in the opposite direction and she was certain that one way or another this road would also see them home but it wasn't exactly as she had planned. The heavens had opened two hours ago and the rain was relentless and came down so fast and hard, they could barely see the hood of the car. The windscreen wipers were furiously trying to provide them with a clear view but with the skies growing grey as darkness fell, their problems were about to get a whole lot worse.

Brenda still didn't understand why Pope had sent her to a conference just outside of Los Angeles with Sharon Raydor of all people. At first she thought he was trying to punish her for once again ignoring his instructions but, by the second day of the conference and way too much time spent in the annoying Captain's presence, Brenda was convinced Pope's plan really was for her to kill Sharon Raydor.

She still wasn't sure how she hadn't done just that.

Sharon had insisted on driving back to the city, since Brenda had driven them to the conference, and Brenda had looked forward to sleeping her way through most of the journey. So far she had managed exactly fourteen minutes of sleep since getting in the car and frankly, she was afraid she going to lose her mind.

What roused Brenda from her thoughts wasn't the sound of the rain but an outcry of fear she quickly realised came from Sharon. Her head whipped up and at the last second she caught a glimpse of the outline of a deer in the yellow headlights of the car. The next moment the car swerved and began to spin.

Sharon's fingers tightened around the wheel, her knuckles white, as she desperately attempted to keep control of the vehicle. Tyres squeaked and somewhere she heard Brenda call her name, then she lost the little grip she had and the wheel slipped out of her fingers as the car spun faster before crashing with a sickening thud against a tree.

Sharon blinked as she felt the rain fall down on her face. The side window had smashed and the rain was streaming into the car. She moved slowly, her body aching as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She turned to look next to her and found Brenda staring at her with big brown eyes.

"Are you ok, Captain?" the blonde Chief asked. Her voice was surprisingly clear.

Sharon noticed Brenda wasn't wearing her seatbelt anymore. "Yes," she answered. "I think so."

"Are you able to get out?" Brenda looked past Sharon. "Is your door jammed?"

Sharon reached to try the door and found that it was indeed jammed. The crash had broken the lock and the door didn't move. She looked back at Brenda. The blonde had managed to open her own door and as Sharon watched, she scrambled out of the vehicle and disappeared into the rainy night.

Seconds later Brenda's face appeared again. "You're goin' to have to climb out this way, Capt'n. That tree on your side ain't goin' to move."

Sharon just nodded and managed to pull up her legs from under the steering wheel and got onto her knees. For a split second she wished Brenda wasn't still watching her because it was anything but flattering to try and climb out of a car this way but when she saw Brenda lean back into the car and reach out a hand, Sharon forgot about that thought. She managed to climb onto the passenger seat and eventually she got her legs out of the car and allowed Brenda to take her arm and help her to her feet. She felt a little lightheaded and tightened her grip on the Chief's arm, swaying slightly, and flinched when in the distance she heard the unmistakable sound of thunder.

The rain hammered down on her, soaking her within seconds, and Sharon was momentarily robbed of her breath.

Brenda had circled around the back of the vehicle and was trying to open the trunk. It was heavily damaged. Both taillights were smashed and Sharon heard some of the plastic break underneath her shoes as she walked over to join Brenda. The car had made a full spin and the rear end had also smashed against the tree. Brenda tried the trunk a second time but then shook her head.

"It's stuck."

"So we don't have our bags," Sharon stated. "Now what?"

"Do you have a signal?" Brenda asked as she checked her own cell phone. The depressing sight of the words 'no signal' didn't do anything to lift her mood. She looked up at Sharon but her face fell when she saw the brunette shook her head.

"No signal," Sharon answered. "We're in the middle of nowhere. I doubt they've even heard of cell phones around here."

"We should get back on the road," Brenda suggested, ignoring Sharon's sarcasm. She looked over her shoulder. The road was only a few yards behind them. "It's not far. We can try and find some place where we can shelter until this goddamn rain lets up."

"Shelter? I don't think we've seen any sign of civilisation for at least the last thirty miles!"

Brenda shot Sharon a look. "I don't think I've seen any this entire trip."

Sharon heaved a sigh. She was sore and her wet clothes were heavy. The idea of having to walk in them was less than appealing but, as much as it pained her, she had to admit that Brenda was right. They had to find some kind of shelter and the car itself wouldn't do.

Brenda walked back to the front of the car and leaned back in to the passenger side to scoop up her handbag from the footwell. She then reached behind the driver's seat where Sharon had put her bag and picked that one up too. Holding the two bags she walked back over to Sharon.

"It's better than nothing," she said as she handed the Captain her bag. She then started towards the road and Sharon, after carefully swinging the bag over her shoulder, followed.

"We should probably just keep walking in the direction we were going because there is nothing where we came from," Brenda said. "I don't know if there's going to be anywhere but…" She didn't finish that sentence, not quite prepared to accept the possibility that there could very well be nowhere to find shelter.

She started walking and Sharon fell into step beside her. They walked in silence as neither really seemed to know what to say. Neither had been thrilled about this trip and now that things had taken a different turn, they were even less amused. The rain was still relentless and the rumbling of thunder seemed to be closing in. The last thing Brenda fancied was the idea of being stuck out in the rain with lightning flashing over her head.

Brenda only noticed Sharon was no longer beside her when she went to ask her if she was ok. She looked over her shoulder and saw the Captain a few steps behind her, a pained expression on her face. It was only then that Brenda wondered if maybe the impact from the crash had caused Sharon more discomfort than she had initially thought. She waited for the brunette to catch up with her.

"Captain, is everythin' alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Sharon answered and although they were nowhere near being friendly, Brenda could tell Sharon was lying.

"You are not fine," she concluded, pointing at the way Sharon was holding her side. "Are you hurt?"

"It's just a bruise," Sharon argued. "Probably from the seatbelt."

Brenda was about to counter with a sharp statement about how seatbelt injuries could be dangerous when something caught her attention. A faint flicker of light in the vast darkness. She turned around and to her surprise she saw the light flicker a second time. Her hand shot out to Sharon's arm to draw the older woman's attention but she noticed Sharon was already looking; she had seen it too.

"Could be a house," Brenda suggested.

"In the middle of nowhere? Who lives in the middle of nowhere like that?"

"You've never been to Georgia, have you?" Brenda retorted. "Come on."

"What? You want to go check it out?" Sharon arched an eyebrow in surprise. For a moment she wondered how on Earth Brenda had ever gotten through the Academy, let alone made it up the ranks. "Really?"

"Listen, if you want to get struck by lightning out here, be my guest," Brenda snapped. "But if there's a chance we can get the hell out of this weather, I'll take it!"

"Fine," Sharon relented. "But if we end up stumbling across some axe murderer…"

"What, you'll kill me?" Brenda finished with a hint of amusement.

They started walking again and after fifty yards or so Brenda noticed the road diverted to the right into more of a country lane. She guessed that on a normal sunny day it was just a dusty road but right now it was muddy and every few steps there was a massive puddle of dirty rain water they had to avoid. She walked slowly, allowing Sharon to keep up, and Brenda felt a sense of relief when through the trees she recognised the unmistakable light flickering behind a window.

The road led to an old, rusty metal gate that squeaked when Brenda pushed against it. The sound cut through her, causing her to shiver, and she held the gate so Sharon could enter too. When it closed behind them, it was like a bullet being fired and the sound echoed all around them. The two women looked up at the house that had loomed up in front of them.

The old farm house had clearly seen better days and was surrounded by tall, dark trees; the whole thing cut an eerie shape against the black backdrop. Faint lights flickered behind the windows that looked like they hadn't been cleaned for years and Brenda glanced at Sharon.

"What is this place?" Sharon asked.

"I have no idea," Brenda answered. The idea of finding shelter here seemed a lot less appealing now. It was the kind of house where people would find themselves trapped in really bad horror movies. The urge to turn around was strong but rationally she knew the chances of finding anywhere else that would allow them to get out of this weather were near enough non-existent.

With her left hand firmly on the gun strapped to her waist, Brenda approached the front door. Sharon was right behind her and just before she knocked, Brenda noticed Sharon had her hand on her gun too. They shared a look but didn't speak and Brenda knocked the big heavy lion's head shaped brass knocker three times in quick succession.

Moments later the door opened and the figure appearing in the doorway confirmed to Brenda that maybe Sharon had been right and finding somewhere else to go would have been better.

"Yes?" the woman asked, narrowing her eyes as she took in the two soaking wet women standing on her doorstep.

She was old, Brenda guessed she had to be at least eighty. She was dressed in a dark skirt that would have been fashionable sometime in the fifties and a dark grey blouse that probably also should have been discarded some time ago, she wore dark stockings and old fashioned black leather shoes and her silvery grey hair was pulled back into a severe bun on top of her head. Intense steel blue eyes pierced into Brenda's

"Sorry to disturb you this late, Ma'am," Brenda said, making sure to put on her best Southern charm. Her Mama would be proud of her. "Our car broke down a few miles from here and we were wondering if we could perhaps wait here until the storm passes?" She pulled her trench coat aside a little, revealing the badge on her belt.

The woman's hardened expression instantly softened at the sight of the badge and she opened the door further.

"Oh honey, of course! Come in! Come, get yourself out of that horrible rain!" She stepped aside and invited Sharon and Brenda into what turned out to be quite a large hallway.

The first thing Brenda noticed was the massive and rather gruesome painting on the wall of what looked like a witch burning trial in Salem. She stared for a long moment at the pained expression on the alleged witch's face as the two men around the stake lit the fire. She turned to glance at Sharon and caught the brunette looking at the painting too. Their eyes locked before Sharon looked away. Their wet clothes were dripping on the stone floor, leaving small puddles, and the woman appeared behind Brenda and began tugging at her coat.

"Take it off, sweetheart. You'll catch your death with all these wet clothes!" She managed to pull the coat halfway down Brenda's arms before shouting, "EDWARD! Come out here and help me!"

Footsteps approached and a man who looked possibly even older than his wife appeared in one of the doorways. He wore pants that were at least two sizes too big and a decade out of fashion, held up by grey braces that sat on top of a black shirt. He was tall, taller than most men Brenda knew, and something about the man sent a shiver down her spine. She had stared down murderers before but this old man frightened her more than any killer ever had.

"Good Lord, Mildred, what have you dragged in here now?" he growled as he took in the sight of the two women dripping wet in his hallway.

"Police officers, Edward! Their car broke down! Isn't it lucky that they happened to find us? They would've been out there all night otherwise! In that storm!" the woman named Mildred exclaimed. "Now come here and help!"

"Please, don't go to any trouble," Sharon said quickly when the man shuffled towards her, clearly with the intention of helping her with her wet coat. She quickly discarded the wet item of clothing herself and took a step back, bumping into Brenda.

"Come. Upstairs! I'm sure I can find something for you girls to wear," Mildred said as she headed towards the staircase. "We don't get many visitors you see…"

Brenda suspected something else this place didn't see much of was a dustpan and brush; the dust on the furniture in the hallway was so thick, it had probably been there since Ronald Reagan was president. She looked helplessly at Sharon but the Captain refused to make eye contact so Brenda reluctantly followed Mildred towards the stairs, with Sharon closely behind her.

Every step on the stairs creaked and the carpet that had once covered the wood had mostly worn away after years and years of use.

"Wait here," Mildred said when they reached the wide landing and she opened one of the doors and disappeared inside. Brenda counted five other doors. All were closed. All looked like they harboured some kind of horrific secret behind them.

The walls on the landing had once been wallpapered in what looked like a floral pattern. But most of the flowers had faded and the paper had turned yellow over time. It had begun to peel in the corners and at some point there had been a water leak because the ceiling was horribly stained. The only light came from a tiny bulb that looked ready to give up at any second. The landing smelt of wet carpet.

Sharon turned to Brenda now that Mildred was out of ear shotand placed her hands on her hips. "You just had to do it, didn't you?"

"What?!" Brenda hissed. "What did I do?"

"You had to knock on the door!"

"That is commonly considered the polite thing to do," Brenda answered. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "By all means, spend the night in the car."

The hint of a smile tugged at Sharon's lips. "And you have fun sleeping in here on your own, Chief Johnson."

Just then Mildred reappeared from inside the room, clutching some clothes in her hands. She looked first at Sharon and then at Brenda as if to determine their size and then shook her head. "I doubt they're a good fit but I'm afraid it's the best I can do." She pushed the clothes into Brenda's arms. "I didn't catch your name, sweetheart."

"Brenda," Brenda answered. "And that's Captain Raydor." Sharon shot her a dirty look. "I mean, Sharon. Sharon Raydor."

"Well, you two get changed. There's a room right there at the end of the hall." She pointed at the door furthest away. "And there's a bathroom right through there." Mildred now pointed at the door behind Sharon. "And then please, come down and join us for some tea. Bring your wet clothes and we'll dry them by the fire."

"Really, you don't have to…," Sharon began but Mildred cut her off.

"It's no bother honey, really. We don't get many visitors," Mildred stated again.

Sharon looked around, taking in the dated and dirty appearance of the landing. "I can't imagine why," she muttered under her breath.

Brenda, still smiling so politely that it made her jaws hurt, just nodded. This was one of those moments where she would gladly fall back on her Southern upbringing. "Thank you. We'll be down shortly."

She nudged Sharon to head towards the room Mildred had pointed at and Sharon reluctantly went ahead and opened the door. Brenda followed and quickly closed the door behind her. She turned back to look at Sharon, half expecting to find the Captain ready to engage in another verbal standoff but instead Brenda was surprised to find Sharon had sunk down onto the bed.

The bedroom was as dated and dirty as the rest of the house and sparsely decorated. Just a double bed with sheets that felt rough to the touch and a frame that squeaked when Sharon moved. The carpet was stained and old and the only other pieces of furniture in the room were a heavy wooden chest of drawers and an old rocking chair. The curtains in front of the window had probably once been green, like the sheets on the bed, but were now a filthy shade of grey.

Brenda quietly crossed the room and put the clothes Mildred had given her on the bed. She studied Sharon for a moment. "Captain?"

"Yes?" Sharon asked wearily.

"Are you alright?"

Sharon's eyes closed. Her body was sore. She had been on her feet ever since climbing out of the car and she was tired, cold and bruised. She felt unnerved by the house and its inhabitants and angry at Brenda for having missed the exit on the highway and indivertibly getting them into this situation. She wanted a warm shower, a glass of wine and her own bed. Instead she got Brenda Leigh Johnson, a body full of bruises and a house ripped straight from a horror movie.

"I'm fine," Sharon insisted. "I just… I really need to get out of these wet clothes."

She pushed herself up and began unbuttoning her blazer but stopped when she realised Brenda was watching her. Green eyes narrowed slightly. "What?"

"You're goin' to do that right here?" Brenda asked and Sharon noticed how the blonde had wrapped her arms around herself. She wasn't sure if Brenda was trying to cover herself or keep herself warm but either way, it was obvious she was uncomfortable.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before," Sharon countered and let the wet blazer slide down her arms. Next she gathered her shirt at the hem and pulled it over her head. As she did so, something sharp cut into her hand and she flinched just as she let the shirt fall to the ground. She then turned her hand over and noticed the blood trickling down her finger.

"Is that blood?" Brenda asked. She noticed Sharon was trying to wipe her hand on her pants. "Are you hurt?"

"It's just glass," Sharon answered and she reached around the back of her neck. "It's everywhere. It must be from the car window."

Brenda slowly walked across the room and silently waited for the older woman to give her approval before carefully reaching up to touch Sharon's hair. Tangled in the wet dark locks were small shards of glass. It didn't take long for Brenda to pull the first piece out and she let go of Sharon's hair.

"Sit down," she said and pointed at the side of the bed. "I'll try and get it out." She hesitated. "And you should probably take those wet pants off too."

Sharon didn't even stop to think about the fact she was undressing in front of Brenda and unzipped her slacks and let the sodden material pool around her ankles. Wearing nothing but her bra and panties she looked around the room but before she could say anything, Brenda held up the throw blanket that had been on the bed. Sharon smiled; it was a tired smile. The cold had begun to seep into her bones and she just wanted to feel warm again.

"Sit," Brenda said and Sharon quietly sat down on the bed.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and her breath hitched slightly when she felt Brenda's fingers against the base of her neck as she gathered her hair. The Chief's hands were surprisingly warm.

Brenda couldn't help but to let her gaze trail over the Captain's back. Her skin was perfect and she felt a pang of envy. She was about to drape the blanket over Sharon's shoulders when she noticed the small drawing on Sharon's lower back, a little right of centre, and she leaned in a little. The tattoo was maybe two inches big and now that she looked more closely, Brenda recognised it as the drawing of a lily. It was black with shades of grey and it looked like Sharon had had it for a few years. The tattoo had become a perfect part of her skin. Brenda resisted touching it but the image triggered her curiosity. She would never have suspected Sharon Raydor to be the kind of person to have a tattoo.

She wanted to ask about it but instead she sat back up and focused on the task at hand.

Sharon felt the blanket being draped across her shoulders and she gingerly pulled the fabric around herself. It was surprisingly soft and although it smelt a little musty, she was glad to have the throw around her shoulders and she wrapped it tightly around her chest. Brenda let Sharon's hair fall back into place and caught another piece of glass in the palm of her hand.

"You should get out of those wet clothes first," Sharon said softly when she felt the mattress dip behind her and realised Brenda had sat down. She shivered. The air was cold and Sharon still felt cold despite the blanket. "You're going to catch your death if you stay in them much longer."

Realising that Sharon was right, Brenda stood up and without giving it too much thought she stripped off, abandoning her wet clothes on the floor. Sharon had her back turned to her so she couldn't see, which seemed to have boosted Brenda's confidence. Brenda grabbed one of the garments off the bed and pulled it over her head before slipping her arms through. The cotton felt a little rough against her skin but at least it was dry. She didn't bother to see what it looked like and sat back down behind Sharon.

"Ready?" she inquired.

Sharon's voice was soft, betraying the first hints of tiredness. "Yes."

"Ok," Brenda answered and threaded Sharon's hair with her fingers, starting close to the scalp.

The feeling of Brenda's fingers against her scalp was unexpectedly comforting and Sharon couldn't suppress a soft whimper. "Oh…"

Brenda stilled her hand for just a second, surprised, but then started the motions again. She trailed her fingers through Sharon's long hair, felt its texture against her fingertips. Now that it was wet it was sleek, quite unlike the usually perfect style the Captain sported whenever their paths crossed, and when she encountered another piece of glass, Brenda had almost forgotten that this was what she was supposed to be doing. She managed to pry the little shard from Sharon's locks and placed it in her own lap before letting the strands of hair run through her fingers again.

Sharon's eyes fluttered shut. Brenda's touch was soothing and her body slowly relaxed into the unfamiliar feeling of the other woman touching her. Outside the rain continued to hammer against the window but the sound was pushed to the background and eventually Sharon forgot about the rain altogether.

For the next fifteen minutes Brenda continued to run her fingers through Sharon's hair and found almost two dozen pieces of glass. When she eventually found no more she had gotten so used to letting Sharon's hair run through her fingers, she needed a few moments to realise that she was done. She looked at her fingers threaded in Sharon's dark hair, struck by both how comfortable and surreal this whole thing was. She tentatively let her hands slide through Sharon's hair, back up towards her scalp, before trailing back down one last time.

"I think I may have a hairbrush in my purse," she eventually said when she let go of Sharon's hair.

She gathered the glass in her lap into her hand and stood up. She left the pieces in the window sill before scooping up her oversized tote and rummaged through it a bit before finding the brush she knew was in there. When she found it she turned around and saw Sharon was still sitting on the bed, having made no attempt to move. Brenda walked back to the bed and sat back down behind Sharon. She waited, silently, expecting Sharon to take the brush but Sharon didn't speak so Brenda slowly began brushing Sharon's hair.

Sharon's hair was tangled and it took Brenda a little while before she could move the brush through the brown locks smoothly. She followed the path of the brush with her fingers and once she was sure that there were no more knots and Sharon's hair was smooth, she put down the brush and gathered Sharon's hair in both her hands. She divided the hair in three strands and slowly began braiding it. She stopped halfway, realising that throughout all of this she and Sharon hadn't spoken a word, but then continued and used the little hairband she kept on the end of her brush to tie up the end of the braid. She let it fall against Sharon's back and studied her own handiwork for a moment.

Sharon chose that moment to look over her shoulder. Their eyes met and it looked like she was going to say something but in the end she just looked away. Brenda stood up, leaving Sharon to sit on the bed alone. Sharon listened to Brenda moving around in the room and chose to sit quietly in an effort to hold onto the little moment that had just happened for a little while longer. She couldn't remember the last time someone had braided her hair and now Brenda had done it and it had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

After a few more seconds of quiet, Sharon let the throw slide off her shoulders and picked up the remaining garment Mildred had given them. She put it on and let the fabric slide over her body until it touched her toes. She looked down at herself and couldn't suppress a snort.

Alerted by the noise. Brenda turned around. "What?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Sharon took the opportunity to study Brenda for the first time since she had put on what turned out to be an old fashioned cotton nightie. Brenda's was long too, and reached down to her toes the same way Sharon's did. It was light blue with a white collar and a few buttons that were clearly there to protect the wearer's modesty. When done up, they would reach to the neck. The sleeves were finished off with the same white cotton frizzles that sat around the collar.

"You look like you were projected back to the 1860's," Sharon smiled. "All that's missing are two neat little braids"

Brenda placed her hands on her hips and gave the brunette the once over. "You look rather fetching yourself, Captain."

Sharon looked down at what she was wearing. Her nightgown was white but no less ugly than Brenda's. She guessed that once there had been a faint pattern on the fabric but a few too many washes had faded it beyond recognition. It had a much rounder neckline that didn't close as high as Brenda's and two little pockets on the front near her hips. Sharon had no idea why anyone would need pockets in a nightie like this.

"We should go downstairs," Sharon suggested. "We can't leave our hosts waiting."

Brenda looked like she wasn't prepared to go anywhere, least of all downstairs, but when Sharon started for the door, the blonde was right on her heels and they made their way down the stairs together. Brenda almost bumped into Sharon when they reached the bottom because the brunette unexpectedly halted.

"What?!" Brenda hissed. "What are you doin'?"

Sharon didn't get a chance to answer that because Mildred shuffled into the hallway. "Oh! I was beginning to wonder what happened." She gestured towards what Sharon suspected was the living room. "Come! Come! I've made tea! Please join us."

Brenda would have rather gone in for a root canal or stare down the barrel of a gun but she followed Mildred anyway.

Stepping into the living room felt like being catapulted into a different era, or even a different world. The furniture was old and dated and had most definitely seen better days. The rugs that covered the hard wooden floors were dirty and worn in places. A fire crackled in the big fireplace and in the arm chair sat Edward. He appeared to be staring into the flames, oblivious of the fact his wife and two visitors had just entered. On a small little wooden table stood a tray with a tea pot and four tea cups. None of them matched and two were chipped.

Mildred pointed to the couch and Sharon was the first to sit. Brenda sat down next to her and instead of leaving some space between them, she sat so close to Sharon, their legs touched. She let her eyes trail around the room. The same faded, worn and dirty wallpaper. The windows were greasy. The art on the wall was less than tasteful and depicted a mixture of scenes varying from crucifixion and torture and eventually a rather explicit sexual act. Brenda tore her eyes away from the images and a cold shiver crept down her spine. In the distance she heard something; it almost sounded like the faint echo of footsteps.

"So, you are police officers?" Mildred asked as she handed one of the teacups to Sharon

Sharon nodded as she reluctantly accepted the cup. "Yes, Ma'am."

"And what brings you out here?"

"The inability to follow directions," Sharon muttered under her breath. She felt Brenda's dark glare and said instead, "We were on our way back from a conference."

"You hear that, Edward? The police have conferences now."

"And they let women drive the cars and everythin' these days too," Brenda added dryly. She was clutching her own cup rather tightly.

The crack of thunder made Brenda jump, spilling some of the tea over herself and over Sharon. The brunette shot her a scalding look whilst Brenda tried to wipe the wetness across her own nightgown with her sleeve. The thunder was followed by a bright flash of lightning that did nothing to make the living room feel any less creepy.

Next to her, Sharon had finished drinking her lukewarm tea and put the cup back down on the tray. "Have you always lived here?" she enquired, in an attempt to start a conversation that wasn't about her and Brenda. "The house appears to be very old."

"Oh only for the last sixty years or so," Mildred answered. "But the house is a lot older than that. I think it's a hundred-and-fifty years old, maybe even older, wouldn't you say Edward?"

"You should ask the ghost that lives upstairs. Maybe he'll tell you," Edward replied and Brenda's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Oh, Edward has this ridiculous idea there's a ghost living in the house. Just because it's an old house doesn't mean it's haunted! I've told him I don't know how many times."

"You know the story about the old well and the little boy! Are you trying to tell me you've never heard the sound of a child crying on a night like this?" There was something about Edward's voice that made Brenda suddenly feel like taking Sharon's hand and running out of the door. "People around here talk, Mildred. And I'm not convinced they're lying!"

"Well, I am! And hush now because you are scaring these poor girls!" Mildred interjected. "It's a miracle I've been married to you for as long as I have!"

"Because I was the only guy stupid enough to marry you in the first place."

Sharon shot Brenda a sideways glance. They had stumbled across the ultimate depiction of a grumpy, old married couple.

"It's quite a big house," Brenda stated. In the back of her mind she was trying to remember as much of the lay out as she could. Too many nooks and crannies for things to be hiding in. She didn't like it.

"It is and with just the two of us here… I'm thinking maybe we will sell and move into the city. This isn't a great place to be when the summer storms really hit," Mildred said. Another crash of thunder followed and Brenda had no difficulty understanding why the old woman had said that.

"It's getting late," Sharon said slowly, her elbow softly nudging Brenda. "If you don't mind, it's been a long day for us and while I don't want to seem unappreciative of your hospitality…." Brenda suppressed a snort. It was such a Sharon thing to say. "…I think Brenda and I should call it a night."

"Of course, girls," Mildred said. "If there's anything you need, just call me. The kitchen's just down the hall should you feel hungry later."

Sharon flashed a smile. "Thank you." She tucked a strand of loose wet hair behind her ear. "Good night."

She and Brenda made their way up the stairs and when they reached the top, the first thing Brenda did was try two of the other doors. Both were locked. She turned to look at Sharon. "This place gives me the creeps. I keep expectin' dead bodies to fall from the ceiling or somethin'. And that man…."

Sharon didn't answer but instead opened the door to the room where they had gotten changed earlier. She flicked on the light and turned to look at Brenda.

"We didn't think about this earlier, did we?" she asked.

"Think about what?" Brenda wanted to know as she too filed into the room. The first thing she noticed was the pile of soggy wet clothes on the floor but then her gaze followed Sharon's and it dawned on her.

"Oh."

"Yes, Chief. Oh."

Brenda glanced at Sharon. "Well, we could… uhm… I don't know…I could go and sleep…."

"We could just sleep in it together." Sharon stated matter of fact.

Brenda looked at her, shocked. "I ain't sleepin' with you!"

"I'll try not to be offended by that, shall I?" Sharon rolled her eyes. "Come on, Chief! It's just a bed and it's one night. It's freezing! Where else were you planning on sleeping?"

"Anywhere but here!" Brenda shrieked and started for the door. Yanking it open, she brought in another cold gust of air that left them both shivering. "It's a big house. There's gotta be other rooms!"

"The doors were locked," Sharon reminded her. She was a little irritated that Brenda seemed to make such a big deal of this whole sharing a bed thing.

"I'll figure it out," Brenda replied and with that she left the bedroom and closed the door behind her. The bang echoed around the house and she paused on the landing, listening for any sounds. She heard nothing, not even the distant voices of Edward and Mildred.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached the top of the stairs. There was a light burning in the hall but other than that the house was shrouded in darkness. The shadows were haunting and a floorboard creaked when Brenda put her foot on it. It made her jump and she staggered backwards until she hit the wall. Suppressing a shriek, she bolted down the stairs towards the light and once there, took a moment to gather herself. She was panting and after a quick look around she remembered the way to the living room.

The door was slightly ajar and she opened it further. There were some dying embers in the fireplace but the living room was deserted. Shivering, Brenda crossed the room and went to sit on the couch. There was no way she was going to sleep in the same bed as Captain Sharon Raydor. Hell would have to freeze over first.

Brenda curled up on her side after finding a blanket by the fireplace and pulled it over herself. She propped her head up against her arm and took a deep breath. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and rotting wood and with every breath she took, the smell got deeper into her lungs. Slowly she closed her eyes, satisfied she had found a place away from Sharon.

The sound of a door slamming made her sit bolt upright.

Floorboards creaked. The unmistakable sound of footsteps sounded above her head; like someone was walking around wearing heavy boots. A scraping sound, like furniture being moved.

And then…

The crying. The sound of a small child crying.

Brenda threw the blanket off and sprinted to the door. She expected to see someone in the hallway but it was empty. She turned to the stairs. No one. A cold shiver crept down her spine as she began climbing the stairs back up to the first floor and when she reached the top she found all doors still closed. Without hesitation she walked across the landing, opened the door to the room where Sharon was and stepped inside.

Sharon was in bed, curled up on her side, but sat up when Brenda came in. She smirked a little. "Back so soon?"

"Shut up," Brenda barked and walked over to the dresser against the wall. "Make yourself useful and help me with this."

Sharon slipped out from under the bedsheets and crossed the room. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"Makin' sure no one gets in here tonight," Brenda answered as she continued to push the dresser across the room until it was partially barricading the door.

Sharon wanted to laugh at the blonde Chief but secretly, she was glad Brenda was back. She would never admit it but sleeping on her own in this house…. It hadn't been something she actually wanted.

"Come on" Sharon said and headed back to bed.

Brenda followed but then frowned.

"What? "Brenda's hesitation did not go unnoticed by the Captain.

"You're on my side."

"This isn't your bed. You don't have a side!" Sharon objected but Brenda shook her head.

"I do have a side and if we're going to do this, I want to at least be comfortable." Brenda crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Sharon groaned but moved to the other side of the bed anyway, allowing Brenda to climb in too. The mattress dipped slightly when the blonde slipped under the covers and Sharon involuntarily stiffened when she felt Brenda's cold foot against her leg. She sucked in a breath and didn't dare move. Brenda fidgeted a little but then stopped. Finally, they were both lying still.

"You had better not snore," Brenda mumbled. "Because I swear, I will kill you."

"Not if I kill you first," Sharon retorted. "Your feet are freezing!"

"I'm cold," Brenda objected. "I can't help it!"

Sharon closed her eyes. She couldn't believe she was about to suggest this. She waited a few more seconds before saying, "Roll over."

"What?"

"I said, roll over."

"I heard you the first time. Why?"

"You're not the only one who's cold, Brenda Leigh, and frankly, I don't give a damn about this whole situation anymore. I'm tired and I would really like to get warm. So please just roll over so I can…"

"Wait, what?" All of a sudden Brenda's brain had caught up and she was instantly horrified. "You want to spoon me?" she shrieked.

Sharon just looked at her with those piercing green eyes.

Before Brenda knew what was happening, she had rolled onto her side and could feel Sharon move towards her, felt the brunette's leg brush against her own, and her breath hitched when she felt Sharon's body wrap itself around hers. It was almost effortless and Brenda found herself relax into the brunette's body, didn't even flinch when Sharon's arm snuck around her waist and pulled her closer.

Sharon breathed in the scent of Brenda's hair; shampoo mixed with rain. Her hair was soft against her face and she carefully brushed some of it aside, her fingers ghosting accidentally over the base of Brenda's neck. She could feel the shiver travel through the younger woman's body and Sharon was momentarily mesmerized. Could a single feather light touch really do that to a person?

"You have a tattoo," Brenda said softly.

Sharon nodded into the darkness. "I do."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted one."

Brenda shivered, despite now feeling warmer with Sharon's body wrapped around her. Suddenly she became very aware of her heart pounding in her chest. "Does it mean anything?"

Sharon sighed. It felt strange being this close to Brenda. Strange but also comforting and safe. "I got it to remember an old friend," she whispered, her voice almost getting lost in Brenda's blonde curls. "That way I get to keep her with me forever."

Brenda's body tensed when she felt Sharon's hand move across her stomach, felt her fingers relax a little more against the fabric of the hideous nightgown she wore. "What happened to her?"

"She died," Sharon confessed. "A long time ago. Her name was Lily. We were friends since kindergarten. And then one day… One day she was just gone."

Brenda noticed the change in Sharon's voice, could hear the sadness. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

Sharon didn't say anything but in the silence that followed, Brenda could feel the change in her breathing. She knew Sharon was crying. She moved her hand to cover Sharon's, the one across her stomach, and unconsciously began to rub comforting circles on the back of her hand. She didn't ask any further questions. Brenda didn't know much about the Captain but she was pretty sure Sharon wasn't the kind of person who easily shared her emotions and she wasn't about to make Sharon even more uncomfortable than she already was.

"She was walking home one night after work. It was late, after midnight. Lily had this job in a bar, just to get herself through school. Sharon drew a shaky breath and seemed to falter with her story.

Brenda held her breath wondering if she was going to continue.

"She was a block from her apartment when this guy came up to her and tried to take her purse. He pushed her and she hit her head on the sidewalk. She never regained consciousness."

"Did they get him?" Brenda asked. She couldn't help it. They were both police officers. It was instinct to ask that question.

"Yes. And the case went to court. But the coroner couldn't determine with certainty that the cause of death was the fact she hit her head so… he walked. And he walked with a smile." There was a bitterness to Sharon's voice Brenda had never heard before. "That was the day I decided to go to law school. So that the next guy who did something like that wouldn't walk out smiling the way he did. And when law school didn't happen, I took the next best thing."

"Well, I'm glad you did," Brenda whispered.

"So am I," Sharon answered. Her mouth was close to Brenda's ear now. "So am I."

Brenda's eyes began to feel heavy now that the warmth of Sharon's body surrounded her. Outside the rain continued to lash against the window and the sound was strangely soothing. The thunder rumbled in the sky over their heads but by the time the next flash of lightning cut through the darkness, they were both asleep. Brenda's hand still covered Sharon's and without realising it, their fingers had laced together.

*

Brenda woke to the feeling of warm sunlight on her face and blinked in surprise, taking in her strange and unfamiliar surroundings. Rays of sunlight came streaming in through a gap in the curtains and it took a few seconds for her to become aware of the warm body wrapped around her. Brenda turned a little and found Sharon still asleep, her arm draped over Brenda's waist. She was momentarily struck by how beautiful and peaceful Sharon looked as she slept but then she reached out and touched Sharon's shoulder. Green eyes snapped open immediately and Sharon sat up, groaning softly as her sore body reminded her of the car crash the day before.

"What's happened?" she questioned.

"It would appear we survived the night," Brenda commented. Her eye fell on the one thing that had changed in the room and she reached for Sharon's arm.

"What?" the brunette asked but followed Brenda's gaze anyway.

There, on the end of the bed, lay their clothes. Dried and neatly folded, in two separate piles.

"What the hell…" Sharon whispered and slipped out from under the covers. She picked up her pants and turned to the door. The dresser Brenda had pushed in front of it the previous night was still there. She shivered and looked back at Brenda to find the blonde already half dressed.

"Let's get out of here," Brenda commented. "This place is beyond creepy."

Sharon wasn't about to argue with that and quickly put on her pants before peeling the ugly nightgown over her head and replacing it with her own clothes. She released the braid from her hair and pushed her hair back behind her ears before joining Brenda to move the dresser out of the way. It scraped across the wooden floor but moments later the door was free and Brenda yanked it open.

They made their way down the stairs. The front door was still locked and Sharon turned the key before opening it. She stepped out onto the porch and couldn't suppress a small outcry of joy when she saw the car driving towards them.

"It's the Sheriff!" she exclaimed, turning around to look at Brenda.

The car came to a stop and the Sheriff, a man in his early fifties with thick grey hair and steel blue eyes, got out. He tipped his hat when he saw the two women.

"Captain Raydor?"

"Yes," Sharon answered. "And Deputy Chief Johnson." She narrowed her eyes. "How did you know we were here?"

"One of my deputies found your car abandoned by the side of the road. Looked like you'd taken a bit of a beating. When we tracked the registration we realised it belonged to an LAPD Detective so we decided to start a search. At first light we saw smoke come from the chimney so I decided to come check it out."

"Well I'm sure glad you did," Brenda answered. She turned to look at Sharon. "We should find Mildred and Edward and say thank you before we leave."

The Sheriff laughed and Brenda looked at him in surprise. "What?" she questioned.

"This house has been abandoned for years. Nobody has lived here for at least the last two decades." the Sheriff answered with a slight hint of amusement.

Sharon and Brenda stared at each other in complete shock? Was this man serious?

"Well of course they haven't, I just meant… Well, never mind what I meant," Brenda stuttered. "I trust you have come to give us a lift back to civilisation. I don't know about Captain Raydor here but I sure could use a hot cup of coffee."

With that Brenda stepped down off the porch beckoning an open mouthed Captain Raydor to follow her. Brenda had no idea what was going on here but she sure as hell was not ready to stick around and find out.


End file.
